Trust Me
by Vixen in Violet
Summary: After everything they'd been through, how could they not be meant for each other? But Brenda has her doubts. Oneshot, short and "sweet."


_A/N: **NikkylovesBD**, I thought of you when writing this because you're the most passionate BD fan I know. Hope it's alright. :)_

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**Trust Me**

The brunette leaned back against the pillows she had propped up and stared at the window. The night, cloudless and cool, was so very peaceful.

A gentle creak caught her attention.

"Hey there," a soft voice came from the door.

"Hey." Brenda's eyes rested on the man before her. She smiled.

Dylan gave a small half-grin in response and sat beside her on the bed.

"How are you?" he murmured into her ear, reaching an arm around her shoulders. She could feel his breath tickling her neck. She shivered.

"Alright, I guess." She couldn't stop herself from grinning. "But you know what would make me feel even better..."

"Already ahead of you." He placed a soft kiss behind her ear.

"Dylan..." she whispered.

He didn't answer, but circled his arms around her waist and pulled her, slowly, purposefully, down with him.

Brenda closed her eyes. She allowed Dylan's lips, those that were mumbling the faint, sweet nothings laced with the suggestion of something more, to roam her jawline, her neck, then lower...

Somehow, her arms had found their way around his neck. It was only natural.

"Bren..." Dylan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if reluctant to let go of the last scent he'd taken in. His mind was overtaken with one sensation, one memory, after another. Brenda... Familiarity... Womanhood... Spirit... An immeasurable depth... Carefree days on a sunny beach, a salt-tinged wind blowing dark hair into and around their faces as their lips would meet, shielding them from the eyes and words of the rest of the world. In such a place, or wherever else, there was always one thing he'd had with Brenda: a home.

She opened her eyes.

"I just want to say... that I love you."

"Dylan.." She couldn't break her gaze from dark eyes that seemed to speak so loudly in the silence.

"And that's all," he said as he placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Her mind whirred. Everything, every word, every gesture... it all felt so right. It was meant to be. _They_ were meant to be. How couldn't they? After everything they'd been through, after all the tears, the excitement, the drama, the sheer _joy_ at finding one another again – he'd looked a little lost that day on the doorstep to her apartment building; London wasn't exactly familiar territory to him – there was no way it couldn't be destiny.

But suppose... suppose it didn't work out. Again.

Brenda mentally slapped herself. All she wanted to say was that she loved him too, that this moment was the only thing she could think of. It was all she wanted...

"Dylan.." she began again, something catching in her throat. She cursed silently and closed her eyes once more. Why couldn't she do more than repeat his name?

"What is it, Bren?" His face was but an inch from her own, a frown creasing his features.

Brenda felt a small pang in her chest. Damned apprehension had clawed its way into her heart and infected her mind.

"I.. I can't.."

"You can't what?" Dylan rubbed her arm in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"Dylan, I can't stand the thought of... losing you. Not again," she finally choked out, a tear escaping tightly shut eyes. "God, I know I sound stupid right now."

Why? Where was her strength? After crossing the ocean to leave everything she once knew, she'd gained her independence, her resolve, a new chance at happiness. And then _he_ showed up and all of those old feelings were unceremoniously dredged up and ready to swallow her whole.

Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, since what she felt was almost nothing but the warmth of the closeness they'd always shared, tumultuous history or not. It was that interminable connection that pulled them together, the one they'd sworn was forged by the Fates as they lay one night beneath the stars.

"No, you don't." Dylan's words were spoken just above a whisper, stated with conviction.

Another tear. She felt the droplets departing her skin as he lightly brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"It's alright," he whispered, closing the distance between them.

She pulled back a little. "But what if it's not?" She couldn't help it. "How do we know, for sure this time, that we'll always stay together? How can I believe it's all... going to work out?"

"Brenda-"

"Dylan, please!" Her tone was almost desperate. "You don't know... I just can't take it. God, now you're back in my life and everything is... everything is beautiful and breathtaking and perfect and you... you're the most wonderful thing. Do you know _how much_ it would hurt if you were taken from me again?" She suddenly pulled the man closer and buried her face in his neck, almost regretting the hot tears spilling onto his skin. "Dylan, you said you loved me. How much do you mean it?" Her mumble was almost intelligible. "You know me better than almost anyone. You've seen me at my best and my worst. Can you tell me... honestly and without hesitation that you feel the same way for me, every part of me... like I do for you?"

Dylan was stunned. He hadn't expected any of this. Not once had the notion that he was making her feel especially wary crossed his mind.

Yet, without needing even a second more to consider her exclamation, he knew his answer. It was as simple to him as telling night from day, but still one that held every fiber of his being in a death grip; such a truth was the only thing keeping him here, alive and filled with passion, just for her.

"Yes." He ran his hands through her hair and kissed the top of her head. "Yes, Brenda." A softer tone. "If there's only one thing I love on this earth, it's you. Nothing will change that."

Gradually, Brenda's small gasps quieted and she lay still, her face still pressed against his skin. "Dylan..."

"Yes?"

"Just stay with me. And promise me you'll do the same tomorrow... and the next day."

"Always, Bren. Always."

As the moonlight eventually crept into the bedroom and bathed them in a soft glow, he decided that, as time went on, her soul was not the only one that would be nurtured back to life.

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_A/N: What do you think? Did any purple prose sneak its way in here?_


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